When Lacie Isn't Here
by eriririri
Summary: Oswald and Lacie had a fight, per usual. Then Jack stumbled along and hangs around in the tower with him, talking about interest and other things of the sort. Then comes in Glen's words, and what Lacie said before she ran off. What will Oswald do when every word and hint comes back into his brain? Rated M for sex.


WARNING: Contains Yaoi/Shounen-Ai. (Smut as well.) Don't like? Go back. Like? Well, enjoy!

"Hello in there?" I heard Jack's voice call. It sounded close. I wondered if I should quickly get out so I wouldn't have to deal with him, or stay put to make sure he didn't mess with anything he ought not to mess with.

"Nn... staying in here it is," I whispered under my breath.

I listened to Jack's surprisingly light footsteps as he climbed up the circling stairs. As he got closer and closer, he himself hummed the melody I wrote, which was named "Lacie," after I sister.

I have to admit... I enjoy it better when she is singing it, her arms spread out, her hair dancing as she herself danced. Or, other than that, when it's playing on a piano, the keys vibrating under my fingers, the sounds hitting my ears sweetly.

"Oh, Laaaaac " he stopped, mid-sentence and mid-step as he saw it wasn't Lacie, but me, Oswald, her brother. "Oswald?" his green eyes narrowed at me in a confusing way. "Where is Lacie?" he looked around, eyeing the little dresser and the tiny closet doors clearly suspecting she hid herself.

I looked away sullenly. A moment passed before I muttered, "Lacie and I... had a fight."

"Another one?" he asked, raising a brow and smiling in spite of the situation. Is it just me, I thought to myself, or do all Vessalius people like the drama? He walked to me a bit more until he was right beside me. "Does she always run off when you two argue? Every single time?"

I nodded, though you could barely tell. We stood there, motionless, listening to the grandfather clock in the corner tick tock away.

"Well," he finally huffed. He sat down on the towers hard floor, crossing his arms and legs. He looked up at me, and informed: "I think I'll just sit here and wait for her return, then."

"Er..." I hesitated. I looked back at the entrance to the tower, then back at Jack, then at my feet. I wonder should I sit down and wait too (for the sake of making sure he doesn't mess with anything), or get back to Glen?

"Oh, don't mind me." he said, smiling up at me innocently. And, as if he were reading my thoughts, "If you want to leave, you can. After all, Glen can't be without his servant forever."

My eye twitched, though I have yet to know why, exactly. I stared at him expressionlessly, and said, "Glen has... other servants he can cope with. I'll stay here." And I sat down next to him, though my back was facing the direction his front was.

For how long we sat there, waiting for Lacie's return, I'm not sure. Silence was comfortably among us two, which was fine by me, as I wasn't in the mood to deal with his nonsense chatting. We listened to the birds hum, the grandfather clock tick away, and our breath as he inhaled and exhaled in and out, until Jack broke the silent.

"Has Lacie always been like this, Oswald?" He asked, his voice sounding interested. Too interested for my tastes, I thought bitterly.

"Yes, she has," was all my response was. Then the silence lingered on, the clock tick'd and tock'd on, and I grew... tired of being in that small, yet gigantic, space with him. This time, I broke the silence. "Why are you so interested in my sister? You know how she is, after all..."

"Interested?" he asked, a laugh following quickly behind. He glanced back at me, his emerald eyes dancing for some reason or another. "Well, I am interested in her, but most likely not the same kind of interested as you think, Oswald."

I thought about that for a moment. "I... am clueless as to what you are saying, Jack," I told him truthfully. I furrowed my brows together in confusion, something I don't do that often. I began to wonder why it was that I showed emotion most when I was around this idiot.

"Hmm," he sang, leaning against me. I heard a smile in his voice as he said, "You'll find out soon enough, I'm sure."

"Oswald, where in the world were you?" Glen asked as I entered his room before knocking, of course.

"Tower..." was all I told him as I shut his door quietly, and walked up behind him. I watched as he brushed through his long white hair slowly, undoing the braids to let it fall free for the night. "Jack... he came again."

"Ah, that Vessalius boy, huh?" he asked, closing his eyes while he nodded. "He seems strangely attached to Lacie." He yawned, setting down the brush. He adjusted himself so he faced me.

"Yes."

His expression was bored for a moment, then, his violet eyes lit up like something important had come to him. "Though, you stayed, hm?"

"Yes...?" I said, though it sounded like a question. "To make sure that he did not touch or mess with thing anything he ought not to touch or mess with... And... reasons of the sort."

"Do you not enjoy his company?" Glen asked, the usualy playful smirk taking over his lips. He tilted his head, ignoring the short-lengthed hair of his as it fell around and in his eyes. "Lacie did say something about how you two were warming up to each other."

"I... ah... I suppose I enjoy his company parts of the time. And I also do suppose that... I could call him an acquaintance," I told him, my brows furrowing again. I sighed, and brought my hand up to my face to rub my temples.

"It seems your face also changes from something else besides that brooding expression you're always wearing when you speak of him," he observed, winking at me as the smirk grew bigger. "And, perhaps when you're with him..."

"Glen..." I started, my voice taking on the broodiness he was speaking of. I stared at him in the eye as I spoke. "Are you implying som ?"

"Possibly a little of something," he laughed, throwing his head back slightly. He then waved his hand as if to tell me to discard my thoughts and questionings. "Though you need not brood over my words, Oswald. You know I enjoy messing with you most."

The corners of my lips twitched, I felt. I sighed, "Indeed I do, Glen."

He nodded and smiled. "But... I take it Lacie never returned?"

I hung my head slightly, and sullenly.

"I take that as a no..." he said, shaking his head, allowing his white hair to hug his shoulders, neck, and some of his face. "What did you two get in a fight about this time, anyway?"

I raised my head levelly, but averted my gaze away from his face. "Er..." When I glanced back at him, he raised a brow, clearly patiently waiting (even my master can be reasonable) for my answer. He motioned with a circular wave of his hand to continue. "Jack Vessalius."

Suddenly, he laughed as if I told him a joke, then danced like a chicken with its head cut off. "Really?" he asked, wiping away the tears of his laughter.

Glen laughed even harder when I nodded my head slowly.

Once up and ready for the day, I immediately went to the tower. Surely, I thought, she was there she couldn't have spent all night out there, who knows where, in the cold and who knows what else.

I walked at a quick pace in case the Vessalius boy (man...) was up bright and early as well, checking upon my sisters return. As he wormed his way into my mind once again this morning, I shook my head fiercely, having no time to dawdle on one such as him.

I climbed up the circular stairs, and murmured, "Lacie?" quietly as I went. If she did indeed come back, then she ought to be sleeping soundlessly either on the couch or curled up comfortably in a ball on the overly cushioned chair.

Walking and glancing around the room, I spotted no trace of her return. I sighed heavily, going over in my mind as to the words our arguement held. I cannot recall saying something that might have set her off... But then again, my sister is quite the peculiar lady.

"Jack comes around often, doesn't he?" she had said, looking at me in the mirror. She had set herself down in front of her large vanity, her long black hair covering the back of the chair.

"I suppose he does," I had responded, running my fingers and her brush through her hair. She had asked if I'd brush through it for her, as the wind and her usual sitting-beside-the-open-window had gotten it in a ratted and mess.

"I'm glad you two are becoming such good friends," she told me, smiling slightly at me; though her tone of voice held something more than just the warm feeling of my having gained a new... friend.

I had asked her the question that I had tried to ask Glen the day before. "Are you implying something, Lacie?"

She laughed happily and teasingly, moving her head from side to side as if to say "well, sort of." I smiled down at her for the joy of it Lacie is one of the few things that can make me truly smile, after all.

"And what is it that you are implying?" I had asked. I ran the brush through her hair once more, then fluffed the roots with my fingers so her hair wouldn't be dull and flat. As you might be able to tell, I have done this for her many times in the past.

I will miss this. I had thought.

"Don't you already know what I'm implying?" she teased, bringing me back into the now. I glanced at the mirror to find her smirking at me. Her ruby eyes glowed with the fun fact that she knew she had been messing with me yanking my chain, per se.

"I'm afraid to say I do not."

"Ponder on it."

"I have tried, and I grow weary of it."

She giggled, hiding her smile with her gown sleeve as her smile grew wider. "I mean... maybe he's interested in you."

"Excuse me?" I chuckled, shaking my head. I closed my eyes, bringing in a breath. When I opened them again, I looked at her eyes, which were staring at me still, in the mirror. "I've always thought him to be interested in you."

Suddenly, her eyes narrowed. "I think it's my turn to say 'excuse me,'" she spat, standing up and walking away from me quickly. "That boy looks at me with some sort of interest, sure, but I watch as he looks at you," she told me, crossing her arms over her chest. "He looks at you with something more than what he looks at me with."

"Lacie..." I said carefully, lightly, so she would not run off. Though I admit I had felt the moment come in which she would scream that she wouldn't speak to me again, then act as though she's going to run past me and out the actual entrace but then she would hoist herself on the window sill and jump down, then away, to where ever she ran off to when we had our fights. "I think I am catching on, but I don't think... That's not... These times are..."

"Oh, who gives a damn about the times, Oswald?" she yelled, her arms quickly uncrossing and her hands becoming fists at her sides. "Who gives a damn, hmm?"

"I... I am not su "

"Exactly, brother! You do not know! Who cares if one is judged? Looked down upon? It's going to happen whether or not we enjoy certain activities or feelings with one of the same sex. I mean, when you think about it, doesn't it se "

"Lacie, please, I assure you that you are jumping to con "

"Jumping to ? Jumping to conclusions?" she yelled, her expression something of shocked, hurt, and something else I couldn't quite put my finger on. "Shush up, brother! I am a lady, after all. Granted I might be a bit out of it at certain times, but I know these feelings, believe it or not!"

"You are being si "

"Silly, you say?" she sucked in a breath, her ruby eyes turning into slits. "You are I am just trying to I cannot believe this! That's it, then! I give up!" she threw up her arms, hissing under her breath.

"Lacie, you "

"I won't speak to you again until you've come to your right mind!" she yelled, and instead of faking she was going to run past me, she went straight through the window and out into the night.

And now, here I stand, in this lone tower, thinking over her confusing words. I've said everything I told her in my mind atleast twice and I cannot find one thing I said wrong. Well... perhaps I did say a few things that would have undoubtedly make her angry, but still, that is no reason for her to g

"Ooooooswaaaaald," Glen's voice sang out, cutting my thoughts off.

"A-Ah," I actually stuttered, spinning around slowly to greet him by face. "How did y ?"

"Oh, please!" he cut me off again, waving that hand in front of my face once more. "I can manage to get up and dress without you, Oswald," he chuckled, then looked around the room, his white hair hitting my shoulder as he turned his head. "So, she really did not come back, eh?"

"It seems so," was all I said. I glanced around the towers walls, sighing sadly.

"Are you going to stay here again to see if she shall show up?"

"Er..." I muttered.

"Not to worry," he sighed, twisting his mouth in a way of thinking. He patted my shoulder and said, "You can."

"Mm," I noised in the stead of a "Thank you."

He laughed, and said, "You're quite welcome."

I watched as he made it out the door, then down the stairs, and onto the grounds grasses. I didn't bother to watch the rest of his walking, as there was no way of getting to him unless said person was incredibly stealthy.

As I stood in the middle of the room(?), I didn't move. For how long I stood there, unmoving with the exception of my chest and eyelids I don't know. Of course, I expected Jack to come in, calling out Lacie's name, humming the tune I created especially for her.

But for the longest time, he didn't come and I found myself getting strangely annoyed with that fact. Did he not want to come, knowing Lacie would most likely not show up? Then again, I wouldn't blame him if he didn't want to sit in silence, side by side with me again.

I listened motionlessly as the grandfather ticked on, as the birds sang to one another; as the wind rustled the leaves, as animals walked through the trees that which were near the tower. I watched motionlessly as dust filled the air, as wind blew the curtains open; as a butterfly dances its way in the room, as the long hand on the clock moved inch by inch, and then

"Laaaaacie?" Jack's voice called out, a hint of question in his voice. His footsteps echoed, and he hummed, once again, that melody. Then he suddenly laughed and said, "Or should I say 'Ooooooswaaaaaald?'"

I turned my head in the entraces direction, feeling a slight smile curl my lips then, Glen's words swimmed in my brain: "It seems your face also changes from something else besides that brooding expression... perhaps when you're with him." Then I'm reminded of the conversation yesterday; the one about interests.

I suddenly felt my self-esteem lower gradually.

Then he appeared in the towers doorway, his long blonde braid swinging as he moved to avoid running into the door. I heard that he shut it, and listened to his footsteps as he walked closer. As he stood to a stop beside me, he rested his arm on my shoulder, looking at the empty room that was before us.

"She didn't come back?" he asked, glancing over at me.

I nodded in return, wondering how many times I will hear that question today. Perhaps, I thought, I should have the others hunt her down and tell her that I have decided she is right after all... Especially since my heart is beating rather fast at the moment from just smelling Jack's scent.

His scent... A hint of oranges. Old books. Is that lavender I smell? Or is it something else? He smells of bread as well, with a hint of cinnamon, as if the spice were covering the food. I inhaled, getting slightly dizzy from all the different scents rushing into me all at once.

"Oswald?" Jack's voice said.

My eyes snapped open. I hadn't even realized I closed them. I cursed the effect he's having on me, I demanded myself not to think about Lacie's words, Glen's words, my own impulses. The impulses to push him down. Kiss his eyes. Kiss him everywhere. Make noises burst out from his lips.

I jerked away from the blonde as if he had electrocuted me. I caught myself just as I was about to stumble. "Wha..?" I heard him mumble. I stalked my way to the window, peering out, hoping I looked as though I heard a noise. And just as if he were mimicking my thoughts, he asked, "Did you hear something? Is it Lacie?"

Sighing, I shook my head, leaning back from the window, but still I faced it. I couldn't look him in the face, the eyes. Only the Abyss knows what I'd do to him if I inhaled his scent as strongly as I did before. Biting the inside of my lip, I impatiently tapped my fingers against my thigh. I wondered, by the silence, if the Vessalius man had left or not.

Then I smelled him. Directly behind me. Close to my right side. I heard his surprisingly quiet footfalls as he walked closer. I pretended I was stone as he said, "Good."

Confusion. That emotion washed over my brain, and I felt it spread across my face. I turned to him quickly, getting another high dose of his scent in my nostrils. When I completely faced him, I opened my mouth to say, "What do you mean by 'good,' Jack?" but instead his mouth covered mine as if it were made to be.

His tounge, too, tasted like oranges. His hands were surprisingly soft and gentle against my face. I hadn't realized I closed my eyes until I thought, Why am I not seeing the sunlight? I also hadn't realized I rested my hands comfortably on his hips until I ran my hand across his belt, felt the rough leather.

Then, suddenly even though I was... enjoying that I jerked away. As our eyes met, I heard us huffing for breath, felt saliva run down my chin, saw saliva run down his until he wiped it off. "Oswald?" Jack whispered softly; but something in his tone of voice made the desire to kiss him and throughly make love to him increase.

I didn't say anything. I stood there, my eyes uncharacteristically wide. My breath gagged, my heartrate skyrocketing. I didn't bother to pat away the salvia that was still on my chin.

"Oswald," Jack whispered, just as softly as before. He took a careful step forward, seeming wary that I might jerk away from him again. But I didn't. I stood still and watched as he raised his arm slightly, up to my face. He wiped the saliva off my chin for me.

Finally, I found my voice. "What was that for?" I asked, sounding a little too harsh, even though I was sure he could tell how aroused I was. If he could not, that only proved my thoughts of him being too carefree, brainless, and spacey.

"Are you hinting that I should be sorry?" he asked, laughing. He took another step forward, lifting my right arm slightly, making it level with his waist. He circled his hand so his palm pressed against the back on mine. Jack stepped forward, close enough to press my waiting hand against the growing buldge in his pants. I made a small noise from the back of my throat. He didn't seem to notice, because he then proceeded to lift his other arm level with my waist. I sucked in a breath as he pressed his hand to the buldge in my pants; the one I had just realized was there. "Because, if you are hinting at that... I might have to point out that we both aren't truly sorry."

Another noise. I tried to resist. But in the end, I gave in completely, telling myself to be sweet to him. I pressed my hand against his erection, slowly moving it rhythmically, up and down, up and down, until it strained against the cloth. Moans escaped his lips, fulfilling my impulses and wishes that involved those lips, that tongue as it took a sample of my neck, the voicebox that formed the moans that escaped the lips.

His hand weakly moved against my own erection, but no matter how weak his touch was, it managed to give me shivers, managed to make those noises form at the back of my throat. Resist, I told myself. Resist, over and over, in my mind, I told myself.

Soon, Jack began to shiver and twitch body and erection. I licked the salvia as it rolled down his chin, grazing my nose against his jawline as the hand that was working on me fell to his side, almost like in defeat. "If... if you..." he began, whispering in my ear. He sounded breathless as he continued, "if you... keep working on the... the thickness down there... I'll soon... be done, you... know."

"Of course," I whispered, though it sounded rough and animal-like. I kissed his lips and trailed my hand up a bit to undo his pants. "Here," I whispered once more, grabbing his hand. I led him to the couch completely ignoring the fact that my sister sleeps here and sat him down. Once seated, he began to hurriedly discard his boots, his cloak, his pants, until he was in nothing but the white button up and his green undergarment.

"You too," he whispered, staring up at me. I shook myself into the now, not realizing I had watched him closely as he undressed. Biting the inside of my lip once more, I discarded my clothing until I was down to what he was in as well. "Now come," he whispered again, turning slightly to lay the length of the couch.

I smirked, huffed a small laugh, and spread his legs, slipping between them. I leaned down, unconnecting the buttons and the cloth until what lay before me was his bare chest and stomach. Hunger. The emotion, the feeling, took over my body and mind. I leaned down more, pressing my lips against at what I guessed to be his most sensitive posts his nipples, collarbones, neck, the place where his ribs come together in the middle of his stomach.

And, soon enough, the words, "I'm ready," slipped through his lips. Love. That's what I heard in those words. Love? I'm capable of recieving love? Then that must mean I too am capable to giving it in return. "Yes," I whispered in agreement, and by the increased heat I felt radiating between us, I knew he heard the love in my voice.

I worked on his green boxers as he worked on all the buttons on my shirt and my own boxers as well. A blissful "Aaah" escaped my lips as his fingers withdrew the hardened length that was my penis, working his fingertips gently on the tip. I clenched my jaw, reminding myself to be as sweet as possible with what we're about to do. I discarded his boxers, threw them over my shoulder, and placed my hands on his hips, lifting him up slightly.

"Are you sure you're ready?" I whispered hoarsely, hovering one hand over his stiffness. When he nodded quickly, I spread his legs more, adjusted myself, and probbed the one place that is most likely his most sensitive spot.

He let out a gasp as I pushed into his entrance more, and squirmed slightly as I arrived fully in. I didn't start thrusting, as I felt him tighten around me I wasn't too sure, but I thought that meant he was feeling some pain. I looked down at him as I circled my hand around his stiffness. He twitched more and gasped one word.

"Move."

A chuckle formed at the back of my throat, but nonetheless, I obeyed. Back and forth, rhythmically, slowly, sweetly, gently the pace quickens as his moans reach my ears, as the wetness of his length covers my hand, as the hunger and every other emotion mix inside my chest, my mind, and

In my hand is his result of climax. He realizes that fact, tries to sit up and fuss over it but I'm still in him, thrusting and thrusting, moving in and back out until he twitches with pleasure and huffs for breath and falls back down on his back as countless noises escape his lips and

In him is the result of my climax. I let out a low, growling moan as I let it go, let everything free. I sigh deeply, extracting what I was thrusting in him moments before. I laid on top of him, listening as our breathing steaded.

A few minutes pasted until we spoke again, still pressed against each other comfortably, even though our sweat and... results... clung to us, and to each other.

"Hey... Oswald."

"Yes, Jack?"

"I'm interested in you, you know."

I tilted my head up to look at him. A smiled formed on my lips, and as I watched his expression turn surprised, I felt the smile widen, even though my face ached since I have never smiled so hugely. "I know that now," I told him, setting a kiss on his lips.

Days passed before Lacie returned. As usual, on the day of her return, I was standing motionlessly in the middle of the towers room, Jack by my side.

When I heard her light footfalls, my head snapped up, my eyes concentrated at the door as she opened it. The look on her face indicated she wanted to kill me, but as the sight of Jack and I together, just standing there side by side, soaked in, her lips became a smiled instead of a pursed line.

She walked around us, as if she were giving us an examination. When she finally nodded in something like approval, she made her way over to the couch. As we watched her, we glanced at each other. Jack looked like he was on the verge of laughter, and I settled on concentrating on not showing any sign of emotion.

Lacie began to lower herself to sit on the couch, but stopped halfway. Her face somewhat alert and confused, she stood once more, bending slightly to get a good look at it. Then she turned to us, her lips pursed once more.

"Is something wrong with this couch?" she asked us, glaring. She set her hands on her hips, walking her way to us.

"N-..." Jack said. He looked away as he said, "No."

"Something seems different about it," she admitted, glancing from my face to Jack's face. As we were both looking in different directions, she didn't catch our eyes. Then, when I glanced at her, her face formed some sort of realization.

"You I Jack O-Oswald, you..." she stuttered, her face becoming a shade of light pink. She narrowed her eyes even more, pursed her lips even more, and brushed between us as she had her way out the towers entrance.

Jack turned slightly, watching her go as I remained motionless. Then Jack laughed carefree-like, and I myself couldn't help but smile the tiniest bit.

"So, Oswald," he said, raising a brow. I looked over at him, a brow raised in return. He stepped to me closely, resting his hands on my forearms. "When can we lay on that couch again?"

I chuckled, the tiny smile forming into a bigger one. "When Lacie isn't here." 


End file.
